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Dramatis Personae
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/ Home / Library / Complete Shakespeare / Romeo and Juliet / Act IV Scene III
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Romeo and Juliet: Act 4 Scene 3
Scene III Juliet's chamber.
- [Enter JULIET and Nurse]
- JULIET
- Ay, those attires are best: but, gentle nurse,
- I pray thee, leave me to myself to-night,
- For I have need of many orisons
- To move the heavens to smile upon my state,
- Which, well thou know'st, is cross, and full of sin.
- [Enter LADY CAPULET]
- LADY CAPULET
- What, are you busy, ho? need you my help?
- JULIET
- No, madam; we have cull'd such necessaries
- As are behoveful for our state to-morrow:
- So please you, let me now be left alone,
- And let the nurse this night sit up with you;
- For, I am sure, you have your hands full all,
- In this so sudden business.
- LADY CAPULET
- Good night:
- Get thee to bed, and rest; for thou hast need.
- [Exeunt LADY CAPULET and Nurse]
- JULIET
- Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again.
- I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins,
- That almost freezes up the heat of life:
- I'll call them back again to comfort me:
- Nurse! What should she do here?
- My dismal scene I needs must act alone.
- Come, vial.
- What if this mixture do not work at all?
- Shall I be married then to-morrow morning?
- No, no: this shall forbid it: lie thou there.
- [Laying down her dagger]
- What if it be a poison, which the friar
- Subtly hath minister'd to have me dead,
- Lest in this marriage he should be dishonour'd,
- Because he married me before to Romeo?
- I fear it is: and yet, methinks, it should not,
- For he hath still been tried a holy man.
- How if, when I am laid into the tomb,
- I wake before the time that Romeo
- Come to redeem me? there's a fearful point!
- Shall I not, then, be stifled in the vault,
- To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in,
- And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes?
- Or, if I live, is it not very like,
- The horrible conceit of death and night,
- Together with the terror of the place,--
- As in a vault, an ancient receptacle,
- Where, for these many hundred years, the bones
- Of all my buried ancestors are packed:
- Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth,
- Lies festering in his shroud; where, as they say,
- At some hours in the night spirits resort;--
- Alack, alack, is it not like that I,
- So early waking, what with loathsome smells,
- And shrieks like mandrakes' torn out of the earth,
- That living mortals, hearing them, run mad:--
- O, if I wake, shall I not be distraught,
- Environed with all these hideous fears?
- And madly play with my forefather's joints?
- And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud?
- And, in this rage, with some great kinsman's bone,
- As with a club, dash out my desperate brains?
- O, look! methinks I see my cousin's ghost
- Seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body
- Upon a rapier's point: stay, Tybalt, stay!
- Romeo, I come! this do I drink to thee.
- [She falls upon her bed, within the curtains]
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